Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Dominican Republic and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Boz Scaggs to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Rod Modell,
Matthew Halsall,
Tim Buckley,
Ten City,
Jimmy McGriff,
Suburban Knight,
The Alarm Clocks,
Maleditus Sound,
Index,
New Age Steppers,
Swans,
The Victims,
The Wake,
Danielle Patucci,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Chris Corsano,
Bluetip,
Tomorrow,
Joensuu 1685,
Ice-T,
Connie Case,
Anthony Braxton,
Stereo Dub,
The Vogues,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Procol Harum,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lou Reed,
Goldenarms,
Delta 5,
Wasted Youth,
Jawbox,
Aloha Tigers,
Donald Byrd,
Mary Jane Girls,
Youth Brigade,
Robert Hood,
Pierre Henry,
Althea and Donna,
Lindisfarne,
Spoonie Gee,
Minutemen,
One Last Wish,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Faust,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kevin Saunderson,
DJ Sneak,
Harry Pussy,
The Gap Band,
Ultravox,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Alison Limerick,
Liliput,
Bobby Byrd,
Amon Düül II,
Mission of Burma,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.